Saturday, August 30, 2014

A laughing boy asks a favor of a laughing city,
perched in the crows nest
a husk of a house on a hill
this day this shall all be mine
100 years of future light
playing in the breezy black
of a southern summer night

A laughing boy asks a favor of a laughing city,
once he asked the same of the moon
except that was before the spring came
this is different, better even
when he asked the moon he was crying
the moon was, maybe laughing

A laughing boy asked a favor of a laughing city,
now he sees with smiles
(i'm)perfect but solid at least
i don't think the moon has ever actually fallen
and landed on anyone anyway.

Ghosts of birds in morning trees
hide with love in a swarm of bees
thoughts of flowers overgrown
with trashcans and sno-cones
wishing once more to see the sun
snap bang the sound of a gun
discontent is the autumn of this wood
i am the spring
and i would if i could.